


Drarry One Shots & Short Stories

by CocoChanel5



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:01:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28976307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CocoChanel5/pseuds/CocoChanel5
Summary: A collection of one shots and short stories concerning one of the Wizarding World's hottest couples...Harry and Draco.  This will include stories from the hypothetical 8th year and through to their adulthood.  Other major (and a few minor) HP characters will appear, but these various stories will primarily follow Potter and Malfoy.I feel I should clarify some things.  I knew what Rowling said concerning the Trans community, and in no way agree with or support her comments or views.  However, there has recently been a trend among members of the Harry Potter fandom on social media showing racism, homophobia, biphobia, transphobia and many other harmful and anti-human rights phobias.  I must absolutely and unerringly state my opinion on these people.  I do not agree with them.  Period.  As a member of the bisexual community, I am appalled by the actions of many within the fandom I grew up loving.  However, I must believe that these horrendous people do not represent the fandom as a whole. Harry Potter should represent the acceptance of differences among everyone.  I feel it is important we all embrace our inner Hufflepuff (this coming from an absolute Slytherin) and practice peace and love in and beyond the fandom.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 3





	1. Of Books and Stolen Kisses

It was a day like any other at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, just as Harry Potter was hoping it would be a year like any other. Well maybe not quite like any other year, considering for the past seven, he'd been nearly killed countless times, actually killed once (although he's still wondering just how he got himself out of that sticky predicament), and hunted to exhaustion and all by one rather pissed off psychopath and his cronies. So no, maybe Harry Potter wasn't hoping for a year like any other. This year he was hoping for some peace and quiet. He was hoping to finish out his education and his Eighth Year with his friends, as they healed from the war and began to at least attempt at moving on.  
However, he would not deny that things were different. One the most impactful differences was his split with Ginny. Of course they were still friends, and he was indeed still very close with all the Weasleys, but sometime in mid July, both Harry and Ginny had decided to discuss just what the hell it was they were doing. They had only kissed a handful of times, and each time had been awkward and messy and rather unenjoyable for both. So, it was with a heavy heart on one particularly muggy evening that Harry asked Ginny if they could go for a walk outside the Burrow. They had walked in silence for a good ten minutes before he had worked up the courage to say something, anything at that point, when Ginny had blurted out that she thought she was gay. On top of that, she went on to say that she thought he might be gay as well. Harry nearly choked. He had spluttered and coughed for a few minutes while she continued to list off the reasons as to why exactly she thought what she did. Though Harry was hardly listening. He was desperately trying to come up with valid arguments as to why she was wrong. Well, wrong about him at least, if she was gay (which she truly was) he would be a strong and supportive friend. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he actually had no real argument for him being straight. Not one. They had finally sat down on a couple of rather large boulders and figured out a way to tell the family that they were no longer together and that it was a mutual decision. Neither had wanted to come out just yet. In fact, it wasn't until the start of first term that Ginny came out and announced with great pride that she was dating none other than Luna Lovegood. Harry couldn't have been happier for her. It was now the middle of October and he still hadn't told anyone but her about his own sexual preferences. That was all about to change in the most odd and accidental way possible.  
Harry was pondering just what to do as he wandered further and further into the maze of books that was the Hogwarts Library. Earlier that week, the Eighth Years had been assigned a project in Defence Against the Dark Arts and Harry was having a particularly frustrating time with it. The green-eyed boy sighed heavily as he continued to search for books to use for research. He was certain he was nearing the very back of the library by now and he had still found nothing he thought to be useful. He had just turned the corner to start on a new row when he suddenly found himself on the cold stone floor, with a rather suspicious weight on top of him. He grunted and fixed his, now completely askew, glasses before looking down at his chest and more importantly what, or in this case who, had crashed into him. Needless to say, he was rather shocked to see a head of white-blond hair, a sharp nose, and light grey eyes staring right at him.  
Draco Malfoy blinked twice as he stared into Harry's mesmerizing emerald green eyes before narrowing his own grey ones and hastily scrambling off the ravenette's chest. A chest he tried not to pay too much attention to as stood up. Well, tried and failed, quite miserably in fact. It took a moment for him to realize that he was still staring, as Harry managed to stand. His gaze travelled up the expanse of the shorter boy's incredibly muscular chest, to his broad shoulders and finally to his face. He took in his square jaw, straight nose, shining eyes, and his hair that somehow always seemed to look as if he'd just had the most mind blowing, life changing sex ever. It simply wasn't fair. At last he forced himself to focus on Harry's expression. With one pure black eyebrow raised in question and eyes alight with confusion, Draco saw just how much he had accidentally revealed in what must have been no more than a five second encounter. Boy was he fucked. He needed to stop that slow dawning of realization that was creeping into Harry's expression fast.  
"Do you ever watch where you're going, Boy Wonder? Or do you simply expect people to get out go your way, now that you're famous?" He drawled, making sure to inject his voice with an extra dose of Malfoy venom. Harry just laughed as he crossed his arms, his biceps flexing deliciously according to Draco, and leaned back against one of the many book cases surrounding them. Ever since they had returned to Hogwarts, Harry to finish his education and Draco to fulfil one of the requirements for his parole after the war, the two boys had managed to come to an unspoken truce. It was a 'you don't bother me and I won't bother you' type of silent agreement and they had stuck to it almost religiously. As such, this was the first real encounter they'd had in the month and a half they had been back.  
Of course, when you have been obsessed with someone for seven years, it can be hard to put them out of your mind and simply move on. "Not that I have ever been obsessed with Draco," thought Harry. "I was merely curious as to what he had been doing. I was suspicious, is all. And rightly so. So then why haven't I been able to get him off my mind?" Harry continued to speculate over his habits concerning the Slytherin as he let his eyes rove over Draco's lithe form. With his slender hips and gorgeously tight ass, Draco Malfoy was the epitome of what Harry considered to be sexy. "Wait? Did I just...? No, I'm admiring him. That's all. I find him aesthetically pleasing. I am most certainly not attracted to Draco Malfoy of all people."  
By now, Draco was beginning to squirm under Harry's gaze. He could feel those penetrating green eyes as they travelled down his torso, past his hips, and back up again. He swallowed hard, expecting the boy to snipe back at him. Instead, Harry let out another low chuckle and focused his inspection on Draco's face, quirking his brow yet again.  
"Well, Potter? Are you going to say anything, or are you just going to stand there and brood all damned day?" Not that Draco minded the brooding, Harry had the sexy brood down to an art, but it wasn't as if he'd ever let the Golden Boy himself know that.  
"I'm just here for a book, Malfoy," Harry drawled. "I'm certainly not looking to start a fight."  
Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course you're here for a book, you simpleton. We are in a library after all."  
"Now now Draco, no need for hostility." Draco froze as his name, his first name, left Harry's lips. Oh how he wanted to hear that again. He wanted nothing more than to grab this infuriatingly hot Boy Wonder in front of him, shove him against that damnable book case and kiss him until neither could breathe. "But alas, our little Golden Boy is straight. And even if he wasn't, there was no way he'd go for me," he thought, rather dejectedly, to himself.  
He looked straight into Harry's eyes for a few seconds before lowering his gaze to the ground in defeat. "Sorry, Scarhead." He mumbled as he began to turn away. He had a sudden urge to be as far away from Harry Potter as possible. It wasn't as if he'd ever have a chance with him anyhow.  
Harry had to strain his ears to hear just what it was Malfoy had managed to get out, before making his escape down the neighbouring aisle of books. He blinked a few times as he came to the realization that Malfoy had apologized. It wasn't the first time he had heard the Slytherin apologize. He had done so after his trials. He had shown up at the Burrow in late June and had apologized to each Weasley individually. He had done the same to Harry and Hermione, and before anyone could pick their jaws up off the floor, he had vanished. So no, this wasn't the first apology Harry had heard coming from Malfoy's lips. But it was the first for such a trivial matter as a few harsh words. Of course, he had still managed to slip one of Harry's least favourite nick names into the apology, but he figured that was just Malfoy being, well, Malfoy.  
It took him a few seconds to come to the conclusion that he wished the blond hadn't left. It took him a few more to realize just why he wished the blond hadn't left. And it took him a few more seconds to decide to go after him. A total of thirty seconds after Malfoy's escape, Harry had found him still walking through the stacks of books, towards the front of the library. Seeing as they were still relatively far back in the library, Harry had absolutely no qualms about what he was about to do.  
As he caught up to Draco, he grabbed his wrist and spun the blond around, noting the surprise in those hypnotic grey eyes. Draco only had time to suck in a breath and prepare for what he was almost sure would be a punch, before his back was rammed up against the nearest book case. Harry's arms came to rest on either side of Draco, against the books as he tipped his face up to stare at the taller boy's lips. Dragging his eyes up to meet Draco's, Harry waited for him to push him away or yell at him. When Draco's only response was to take in a shaky breath and lick his bottom lip, Harry smiled hungrily. He grabbed the back of Malfoy's neck and crashed their lips together in a heated kiss, swallowing Malfoy's immediate moan of arousal as he ran his tongue along the boy's sinfully soft lips. He groaned as Draco's lips parted, allowing his tongue to explore the recesses of Malfoy's hot, velvety mouth. He groaned louder when Draco began to take charge and, grabbing Harry's hips, walked them back so it was now Harry who was pressed against the other book case across the aisle. His groan turned into a low moan and then a breathy whine as Draco began to grind his groin against Harry, who was now uncomfortably hard. He whined again when Draco broke away from the kiss, breathing heavily, grey eyes molten with desire and he stared down at Harry. He rolled his hips against Harry's one last time before leaning down to lick the shell of his ear and nibble at his earlobe. The ravenette's head thumped back against the book case as Draco's breath brushed his ear and neck, making him shiver when the blond whispered, "As much as I would love to continue, I am not fucking the Golden Boy against the books in the Hogwarts Library. It would be incredibly offensive to the books," he winked as his eyes met burning green ones.  
"But you'll fuck me elsewhere?" Harry asked breathlessly, his voice low and husky with desire.  
Draco gave one last little nip to Harry's jaw. "The Room of Requirement, ten minutes." He stated, sounding more like a command than anything to Harry, before striding away towards the exit, and presumably the seventh floor and Room of Requirement.  
Harry watched him as he left, or rather he watched his ass. He let his head fall back to rest on the book case one last time as he grinned up at the ceiling. He'd have to remember to thank his Defence Professor later for that damn project. It did lead him to the library after all.  
He was still grinning like a fool as he made his way to the massive doors that opened up to the halls of Hogwarts, which would eventually take him up to the Room of Requirement.


	2. Of Secrets and Lovers

The Second Wizarding War was over. Voldemort was finally dead, and all that was left was for the survivors to pick up the pieces of their lives and move on. It was easier said than done as the Wizarding World slowly began to put itself back together. The Golden Trio went back to Hogwarts along with the rest of their class mates and finished their education. They mourned their losses, patched up old rivalries, and settled down to study for their N.E.W.Ts. As their Eighth Year passed, Ron, Hermione, and Harry found peace with the rest of their students, particularly with Slytherin's favourite three. Blaise, Pansy, and Draco had approached the Golden Trio in mid-November to call a truce. By January, a budding friendship had emerged between the six, and by march, they were inseparable. What was most surprising to all of Hogwarts, and the Wizarding World, was the friendship between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. In fact, the only two who were not utterly dumbfounded by the development were Hermione Granger and Pansy Parkinson. They had simply shared a knowing look and a smirk when Harry had been the first to break down and call Malfoy by his given name. They had smirked again when Draco had called Potter by his given name, and for the first time, actually smiled at the shorter boy. When graduation finally rolled around, Harry and Draco were the best of friends, and insisted that they all get together at least once a month to catch up after they left Hogwarts for good. 

And so a tradition was born. No matter how often they all saw each other at the Ministry, or how often they ran into one another in Diagon Alley, on the second Friday of every month, the six all met at their favourite pub at exactly six o'clock in the evening and would stay to talk until closing at exactly two o'clock in the morning. They would talk about anything and everything and it wasn't until a year after graduation that their little group began to change. Ron finally convinced Hermione to marry him and Pansy finally convinced Blaise to go out with her. By the third year, Blaise and Pansy were married and Ron and Hermione had a child. Leaving Harry and Draco as the only single two in the group. However, what neither knew, was that they had both been secretly harbouring feelings for the other since they were young. 

Harry had been in love with Draco since they were eleven. It had started as a small crush when he met the boy for the first time at Madam Malkin's in Diagon Alley and had grown from there. Draco had been in love with the idea of Harry Potter since he was much younger and had actually loved the boy since he had defeated the Mountain Troll that had been roaming the school in their first year. They also didn't know that their secret feelings for each other were, in fact, not so secret at all. For there were two very clever young witches who knew all about their love and had come to the conclusion that the two men were most definitely incapable of getting together themselves and decided to give them a little nudge in the right direction.

So it was on the second Thursday of January, a day before their traditional pub night, and Hermione and Pansy were sitting together in a cosy coffee shop in muggle London, finalizing their plan for the next evening. "So," stated Hermione, her hands wrapped around her steaming mug as she leaned back into the comfy chair across from Pansy. "I'll owl Harry at five past six to tell him I'm horribly ill and Ron and I won't be able to make it."

"And I'll owl Draco at ten past six to let him know that Blaise and I will have to cancel." Pansy replied, a devilish smile tugging at her lips.

"Have you figured out what excuse you're going to use yet?"

"No, but I figured I would make it up on the spot. You know, practice a little improve." Hermione rolled her eyes. As much as she hated it, Pansy was quite impeccable at making things up as she went along. 

"Well, let's hope they don't catch on to our little ruse." The bushy haired girl said. They had both been watching Harry and Draco since the beginning and by this point were rather invested in what happened between the two. The women shared a conspiratorial smile as they finished their coffee and headed back to the Ministry for work. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second Friday of January had gotten off to a bad start for Harry. He had woken up late, had spilled tea all down his Auror robes, and had hit yet another dead end in what was turning out to be a particularly flummoxing case. So, when he had arrived at the usual pub, just off Diagon Alley, at six in the evening he was looking forward to a night of relaxed fun with his mates. However, at precisely 6:05 Hermione's owl dropped a hastily penned note on the table before him. 

_Harry,_

_So sorry, but I seem to have caught something rather nasty at work. Terribly ill, won't be able to make it. Ron isn't coming either. Give the others our regards._

_X-Hermione_

Harry read the note twice before writing out a short reply telling Hermione to get well soon and that both her and Ron would be missed. With that, he gave the note to her owl and sent him off just in time to look up and see Draco striding towards their customary table with a small scowl marring his gorgeous face.

"Pansy and Blaise aren't coming. Apparently their kneazel is sick, throwing up all over their rugs according to Pans." Draco told Harry as he sat down across from the raven-haired man. 

"I'm sorry to hear that. Hermione and Ron aren't coming either. Hermione just owled. She's sick and I guess Ron is taking care of her? She didn't really say though, just that she's ill and they're both staying home."

"So..." Draco looked down at the table, using his fingernail to scratch at a small divot in the wood. "It's just us then?" Harry stiffened as he began to realize the implication of Draco's words. It was indeed just them. But surely this couldn't count as a date, right? It wasn't as if Draco was into him...right? No, of course not. He was just being silly. It was just dinner and some drinks between mates. Never mind the fact that he had been in love with this particular mate since he'd met him. 

"Er, yea-yeah. I, uh, I guess it's just us then." The green-eyed man stuttered out awkwardly, a blush creeping its way up his neck. Cursing himself soundly, Harry looked down at his hands and swiftly told himself to get it together, damn it. "Do, uh, do you want anything to hum, drink?" He asked Draco, once he thought he had control over his voice and his treacherous mind, wincing at the slight stutter that escaped him anyway. 

"Firewiskey, please." Was Draco's only response, still not looking up from the table. As Harry made his way up to the bar to put in their drink orders, Draco groaned. Of course Pansy would leave him to Potter alone. " _Not that the traitor did it on purpose,_ " he tried to remind himself. He sighed heavily and dropped his head to join his hands on the table. " _Fucking pull it together, Draco. Now is certainly not the time to go all gooey eyed for Potter._ " Of course, his heart didn't listen as Harry returned with their drinks wearing a wide smile. His emerald green eyes alight with happiness while he stared right at Draco, causing the blond to melt. " _Maybe he...No definitely not. But he just might...Nope. Shut up Malfoy, he most certainly does not, you muttonhead._ "

"One firewhiskey. Ogden's Finest," Harry said as he set the glass down with an audible thunk in front of Draco, still smiling. Draco looked at the glass, and then back at Harry before returning the shorter man's smile and thanking him. "So," Harry's deep voice washed over him as he sat down again. "How have you been? I mean, I know we just saw each other a couple of days ago, but we didn't really get the chance to catch up." Draco looked, meeting Harry's bright green eyes with his own grey ones. 

"Well...," and so Draco began to tell Harry about his day before moving on to tell him about his week. Another two drinks in and the was listening to Harry about his day and his week, all the while getting lost in those hypnotic jade eyes.

After their third drink each, Harry was leaning a little closer to Draco as he talked, and Draco was inching his hand ever so slowly over the table towards Harry's. By now it was 9:00 and both men were completely lost in each other. The alcohol in their systems giving them the courage to start flirting, and the lack of rejection fuelling their bravery. It was 9:30 before Draco finally mustered up the courage to cover Harry's hand with his own. Harry froze, sucked in a breath, and looked down at those long pale fingers twining with his. He smiled and dragged his gaze up to Draco's, squeezing the man's hand to let him know that yes, he was alright with this, and yes, he felt the same way, before continuing their conversation. By 10:00, Harry had reached out to take Draco's other hand, his thumb grazing over his pale knuckles as they talked. By 10:30, Draco decided it was time for them both to leave. 

He pulled his hands away from Harry and couldn't help but smile at the look of utter loss on Harry's face. "I do believe it is time for us to be heading home." He said softly, his voice caressing over Harry as he stood too. 

"I guess we should, huh?" Harry scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as Draco donned his jacket. He smiled though, when the tall blond offered him his arm to lead him out of the, now crowded, pub. Neither spoke as they wove their way through the mass of people and headed towards the door. The rush of cool, winter air was a shock as they stepped outside into the chilly evening. "Well, I guess I'll see you around," Harry blushed as he began to pull away from Draco to apparate home, only to be stopped as Draco tugged his arm. Harry looked up into those fathomless grey eyes, his blush deepening as Draco's eyelids began to droop shut and his face began to slowly descend to Harry's. 

The kiss was soft and gentle. An exploration between two new lovers. Harry moaned quietly as Draco swiped his tongue along his slightly chapped lips, begging for entrance. As Harry's lips parted, Draco stepped closer, bringing their bodies flush against one another. Harry's hands moved to wind themselves around Draco's neck, as Draco's hands gripped Harry's hips. It was minutes before they pulled away, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breath. 

"You know," Draco drawled. "I said we should be getting home, but I never said whose home." He looked into Harry's eyes and winked, before grabbing Harry's hands and apparating them both to Malfoy Manor, not even noticing the two figures across the street who had been watching in silent triumph the entire night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this collection of works is also on Wattpad. They are all mine, unless otherwise stated. However, the Wizarding World and all Harry Potter characters belong to author J.K Rowling. Please feel free to comment or contact me through Wattpad or AO3 about this work! XOXO- Co.


	3. Of Letters and Virgins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so this one is definitely smutty...

Draco Malfoy was looking forward to a perfectly normal and entirely uneventful Saturday morning. For the entirety of his, so called, 'eighth year' at Hogwarts, the Prince of Slytherin had managed to keep his head down. And this morning was no different. He woke up early, avoiding most of his House, met with Pansy and Blaise in the common room, and wended his way out of the dungeons and towards the Great Hall. The three sat in their usual spot at the very end of the Slytherin table, closest to the doors, and he ate his usual breakfast of oatmeal, one piece of bacon, and an apple (preferably a green one).

Today, however, was about to prove itself quite the opposite of usual for Draco. Right as he had taken his first bite of his apple, a rather old looking barn owl landed right in front of him, interrupting Pansy's musings on the beauty of one Miss Hermione Granger, not that he minded this particular part. Pansy never shut up about the Granger girl. It was all quite annoying, if you asked Draco.

The bird looked at Draco and blinked a few times, before hooting rather impatiently and holding out its leg. Draco looked down and noticed a rolled up piece of parchment carefully tied to the owl's left foot. He regarded the owl for a few more seconds and decided what the hell. Reaching forward slowly, he untied the letter and started to unfurl it, only to be stoped by a sharp peck against the back of his hand.

"Ouch!" He narrowed his eyes and glared at the offending creature. "Well what the bloody fuck was that for?"

"I think the poor thing wants a treat, Draco darling," Pansy drawled, raising one perfectly shaped brow at him.

"It attacked me! I would hardly call it a 'poor thing', Pans," Draco rolled his eyes and returned his stony gaze to the owl. It merely cocked its head and stared at him with massive eyes. "Ugh, fine. Whatever," he sighed and passed the pesky bird a piece of bacon. It hooted softly, took the offering, and flew off, leaving a smattering of feathers in its wake. Draco glared after it as a few feathers landed in his oatmeal, thoroughly ruining it. "Damn bird," he muttered as he returned his focus to the paper in his hands, studiously ignoring Blaise's poorly muffled chuckling. The blonde scowled as he unrolled the parchment and began to read the messy writing.

_My Dearest Draco,_

_I am sure you already know how truly and gorgeously handsome you are, but I thought I would tell you myself. You, my love, with your moonlit hair and glistening mercury eyes, are the most beautiful person I have ever seen. Not to mention that amazing mind of yours. I am enthralled with your sharp wit and your dazzling smile and the way you seem to have the answer to everything and anything._

_And of course, let's not forget that fucking fantastic ass of yours. Really, it's unfair how perfect it is. Honestly, how do you get your ass to be so distractingly mouth-watering?_

_However, your beauty and your mind are not my reasons for writing you. I wish to tell you how proud I am of you. You have grown from the absolute prat (don't try and argue with me) you were. You have become kind and genuine and I have loved seeing you turn into someone who will take the Malfoy name (because I know how important that sort of crap is) and do great things with it._

_Love,_   
_P_

Draco was dumbfounded. He was shocked and stunned and so incredibly confused. "What the hell?" He muttered to himself, as he read and reread the letter, a blush creeping up his neck. Who in Merlin's name would write him of all people a love letter? And an anonymous one at that. His mind instantly went to the one person he wanted it to be. The one person he didn't dare hope it actually was, despite the P used to sign the letter. Bright green eyes and messy black hair flashed through his mind before he shook his head, scowl deepening.

"What's wrong?" Blaise's deep voice jolted Draco out of his wishful thinking. The dark-skinned boy was leaning over the table from where he sat next to Pansy, in an attempt to read the mysterious note upside down. The blonde blushed and hastily rolled the letter back up. 

"Nothing's wrong? Why does something have to be wrong? Does it seem like something's wrong?" Draco winced at how high pitched and panicked his voice sounded, even to him. 

Blaise smirked and rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah, nothing's wrong at all." 

"No, not a thing," Pansy drawled, sharing a look with the dark-skinned young man next to her. 

"Right. See? Nothing is wrong at all. Everything is great actually." Draco ran a hand through his white gold hair. "Look, I'm going to go. I, uh, I've got to go to the, uh, library. We have that essay for Binns, you know." He managed to stutter out as he stood, putting the letter in his bag and slinging the leather strap over his shoulder before walking out of the Great Hall. He could feel Blaise and Pansy staring after him, confused by his decidedly odd reaction to the letter. However, what he was completely oblivious to, was the bright green gaze that tracked him from the Slytherin table to the doors of the Great Hall. 

...................................................................................................................................................................................................

Draco hadn't exactly been lying when he said he would be going to the library. He had simply been lying about writing that essay for Professor Binns. He had finished that assignment days ago and had already turned it in. Instead, he went to the very back of the library, to the secluded study rooms hardly anyone knew about, let alone used. Draco himself had found them on a fluke, in sixth year, when he had needed a fairly secluded and secret place to plan out just how in the hell he was going to deal with the task The Dark Lord had given him. So, he knew he would be relatively safe from prying eyes as he tried to figure out what the fuck this letter was.

"It has to be a joke. A prank. Who would write something like this to someone like me?" He muttered to himself, rather dejectedly, running a delicate hand through his white-blonde hair. Taking the letter out of his bag and unrolling it again, he sighed and sat down at the worn and scratched wooden desk in the centre of the room. The scrawling, messy handwriting seemed vaguely familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Of course it's a joke, Draco. Don't be stupid." He told himself irritably. There was no way it wasn't a joke. He sighed and began to read the letter again, brows scrunching together, and lips pressed into a thin line. When he reached the end of the page, he scowled even more.

"P? Who the hell is P?" He muttered aloud. "Pansy maybe? No, it's not her handwriting." He'd know Pansy's handwriting anywhere, with its flowery loops and delicate slant. No, this definitely wasn't Pansy's writing. Not to mention, she wouldn't pull a prank like this. She might send him a letter like this to cheer him up, she hated when he acted so self-conscious, but she certainly wouldn't add any of the sexual shit. Draco was pretty sure she was gayer than he was, which was saying a lot. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he set the letter down and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes.

He sat for a few moments in the quiet of the secluded room before a sharp knock on the door jolted him from his thoughts. He barely had time to sit up straight when the door squeaked open. "I told you nothing was wrong, Pans. I have work to do, I'm sorry but I'd rather be left alone." He bit out, trying hard not to get too annoyed with his best friend. _She's just trying to help. She's just worried._  
  


"Malfoy?" The voice was deep and smooth and masculine and most definitely not Pansy. It was a similar baritone to Blaise's voice, but unlike Blaise's slightly raspy one, this voice was smooth like butter and all too familiar to Draco. "Look, I was thinking that maybe we could talk?" 

"Out of anyone in the Wizarding World, Potter, and you decide to have a chat with me?"  
The raven-haired boy took Draco's question as permission to step into the room, much to the blonde's annoyance. With a soft _snick_ , he shut the door and made his way to the desk where Malfoy was seated. "That wasn't exactly an invitation, Potter." Draco drawled, watching from the corner of his eye as the shorter boy grabbed a chair from another desk and dragged it over. The blonde let out an irritated huff when Potter sat barely a foot away and settled his piercing green gaze on him. 

"Harry."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Harry rolled his eyes before looking at Draco again. "My name is Harry."

"Yes, I'm well aware of that, Golden Boy. In fact, I'm pretty sure the entire Wizarding World is aware of that."

"Then why don't you use my name?" Harry asked, arching a brow.

"Last I checked, you're still a Potter. Technically, I do use your name." Draco knew all too well what Harry was trying to say, but he was in a difficult sort of mood. The prank letter had gotten deeper under his skin than he had initially thought apparently. He glanced at Ha-Potter and was met with narrowed eyes and a slightly clenched jaw. _Fine, so maybe it was wrong of me to poke fun, but it's well....fun._ Draco smirked and huffed out a tiny laugh before deciding that maybe, just maybe, Golden Boy was right. Perhaps it was time to set aside their petty grudge and let bygones be bygones. _You know, maybe this could lead to a friendship. Maybe a friendship could lead to-nope, shut it Malfoy. That's not going to happen._ "Alright, alright. You can stop looking constipated...Harry."

Harry looked at him for a minute more and then smiled, a wide and genuine smile. The kind that showed all of his stupidly perfect and idiotically white teeth. The kind that made Draco remember just how fucking gorgeous Harry really was. The kind that made his stomach do several weird and wholly unnecessary somersaults and his lips curve up into a smile, purely of their own accord. _Of fucking course. Out of all the guys in the Wizarding World, and I had to fall for the Golden Boy. Why couldn't it have been Nott? Hell, I'd even settle for Longbottom._ Draco groaned internally at the utter stupidity of his damn emotions. 

"So...?" Draco looked expectantly at Harry, brows raising ever so slightly at the ravenette, who seemed to be lost in thought as he continued to stare at the blonde in front of him, smile still plastered on his face. 

Harry's attention snapped to Draco's lips as they moved. "Hmmm?" Slowly, he dragged his eyes back up to meet Malfoy's grey ones. 

"You said you wanted to talk about something. What was it?" Draco asked, trying to ignore the way Harry's gaze had slid back down to his lips. Well, trying and failing that is. Miserably. 

"Oh...I....uhhh...I just wanted to...um...." Harry's eyes flitted down to the desk, spotting the letter, and then back up to meet Draco's, swallowing thickly before opening his mouth again and quickly shutting it.

"Tell me, when did you get so eloquent, Harry?" Draco arched a well-shaped brow at Potter, a smirk settling over his pale pink lips. Pale pink lips that Potter was now staring at rather intently. They both stayed silent for a few moments as the air shifted and became charged with an electricity neither could explain. 

Potter scowled for a second, gaze still trained on Malfoy's mouth as Draco's tongue darted out to moisten his bottom lip. "Oh fuck it," Harry muttered before grabbing the back of Draco's neck and crashing their lips together, earning a muffled squeak from the rather shocked blonde. 

The kiss was strong and passionate, causing Draco to melt immediately. Right from the start, Harry had dominance as he swiped his tongue along the seam between Draco's lips, begging for entrance. As soon as Malfoy parted his lips, his tongue dipped inside the velvety recesses of the blonde's mouth, running over smooth teeth and stroking along the roof of his mouth, before beginning a slow, languid dance with Draco's own tongue. Draco was glad he was already sitting, his joints going weak and turning to jelly from the sheer feeling of having Harry's lips on his. He gave a small moan that sounded more like a whimper, much to his embarrassment and tried to move closer to Harry without breaking the kiss or falling off his chair. All too soon though, Harry pulled back to look Draco in the eye. He smiled shyly, both boys panting slightly from the exertion of the kiss. 

"Was that okay?" Harry's voice was low and husky with desire, making Draco melt even more. 

Draco had to clear his throat a few times before his voice would work properly and even then his affirming 'yes' was still shaky and somewhat gravelly. Harry's smile widened before he stood up and took Draco's hands, pulling him up as well. Bringing their bodies flush against one another and wrapping one arm around the blonde's waist, he placed one hand on a pale cheek and guided their lips together once more. This time, the kiss was slow and gentle, yet still passionate and fuelled by desire. Slowly, Harry began to walk Draco back until the backs of his thighs were pressed against the edge of the desk. Draco moaned loudly as Harry began to roll his hips, grinding their growing erections together. As they rutted against each other, Draco moved his hands to grab Harry's ass and pull him closer, causing the raven-haired boy to groan into the kiss.

Reluctantly, Harry wrenched himself away from the kiss, taking a step back as he did so. Draco whined at the loss of bodily contact and reached forward to grab Harry's shirt and drag him back again, but a hand on his wrist stopped him. He looked into Harry's eyes, only to get lost in their viridescent depths. "If we keep going, there's no going back," Harry warned. "I'm not planning on letting go anytime soon, so if you don't want this, if you don't want me, say so right now."

"I want you. Merlin, I want you," Draco whimpered, not even caring how weak and desperate he sounded. All he could think about right now was the feeling of Potter on him and how to get it back. Harry looked him in the eyes and nodded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! For fuck's sake, Harry, yes!" Draco was just about ready to beg for it, if he wasn't already. He was achingly hard and needed Potter like he needed air. Harry gave him a quick, blinding smile, and grabbed his wand. Before Draco could even flinch at the drawn wand, Harry had cast a silencing and locking charm on the door of the study room, ensure absolute and total privacy. He set his wand down and turned back to Draco, only to be pulled into a rough and wild kiss by the eager blonde. Draco began trailing his hands along Harry's torso, working their way down until they reached the hem of his shirt. His hands slid under the fabric and began to explore the muscled expanse that was Harry's chest. The shorter boy inhaled sharply as Draco's fingernails rasped against his hardening nipples, causing Draco to smile wickedly into the kiss.

As Harry's mouth was devouring Draco's, he quickly began to work on undoing the buttons of Draco's shirt, brushing his fingertips over each newly revealed inch of creamy, pale white skin. Finally, he had Draco's shirt open and began to run his hands over the taller boy's shoulders and chest, stopping short when he ran into the scars that littered Draco's lithe torso. Slowly, he brought the kiss to a halt and leaned far enough back to look down at the scars, tracing a few of the particularly long ones.

Draco looked down at Harry's face, trying to read just what was going on in that mind of his. Harry had to have known about the scars, he had put most of them there in sixth year, not that Draco blamed him. He obviously hadn't known what the spell was for, and if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he was a bit of an asshole back then.

"I did this," Harry whispered into the near silence of the room.

'Don't be silly. Some of them were from other things." A memory of the Death Eaters at the Manor flashed through his head before he firmly shook it away.

"But most of them are from me, from what I did to you." Harry looked stricken at finally seeing what had resulted from what he had considered to be the biggest mistake of his life. He dragged his eyes up to Draco's ever so slowly, as if he was afraid what he'd see in them. "How can you kiss me without thinking of this? How can you even look at me?"

Draco leaned down, so his forehead was resting on Potter's, and spoke softly, but firmly. "Harry, listen to me. We all make mistakes. Merlin knows I've made plenty. I forgave you for that a long time ago. Plus, if my memory serves me right, I was attempting to crucio you in that moment, so technically you were defending yourself. I don't blame you." Carefully, he brought his hands up to Harry's face, cupping both cheeks softly. He looked into Potter's eyes and made sure the boy saw how honest he was being in this moment. Potter gave a shy smile before Draco fitted his lips back onto his.

Soon, Potter's hands began to move again. Tracing over the scars and running along Draco's muscles. He dragged his mouth away from Malfoy's and began to pepper kisses along his jawline, nipping carefully with his teeth and using his tongue to swiftly soothe over the small hurts he left along the skin. Both boys knew the marks would only deepen until they were starkly visible against Draco's skin, but that seemed to excite them. Draco particularly wanted to show the world that he was absolutely and unequivocally Harry's.

By the time Harry reached Draco's collarbones, Draco was a whimpering, moaning mess. His head was thrown back, giving Harry more access to the sensitive skin of his neck and his hips were bucking against Harry's, desperate in their quest for any sort of friction at all. Draco's erection was straining painfully against his trousers, the head already beginning to leak. His head snapped up when Harry began undoing the buttons to his trousers, releasing his aching cock and shoving both his trousers and pants down. He helped Draco step out of the rumpled pile of clothes before lifting the boy onto the desk and stepping between his parted thighs. He gingerly grasped Draco's cock and began to lightly stroke up and down. Draco threw his back again, his lungs going tight as he attempted to haul in a breath. The pleasure was so incredibly amazing. Draco had never experienced something so wonderful in his life. 

That was until Harry knelt down and angled Draco's member towards his mouth, placing a chaste kiss to the tip before parting his lips and sliding them over the hot and heavy penis in his hands. Draco had definitely been wrong. This was the most wonderful thing he had ever experienced. Holy Merlin, it was good. He gasped as the tip of his cock hit the back of Harry's throat. He moaned when Harry kept going, taking him deep into the recesses of his mouth and throat. He cursed loudly when Harry began to suck, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing his head a few times before swallowing around the thick head and shaft. By now, Draco could hardly breathe. He was trying and failing to not buck his hips and thrust deeper into Harry's mouth and somehow his hands had wended their way into Harry's messy hair, gripping at the base of his skull and tugging at the follicles. 

Harry groaned around Malfoy's cock, the vibrations going straight to the base of Draco's spine. He was moaning loudly enough for the sounds to echo off the walls of the room, making him immensely grateful for the silencing charm Harry had cast. 

"Harry....oh fuck....Harry, you have to stop." Harry pulled his mouth off Draco's cock with an audible pop, looking up at the blonde with concerned eyes. 

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" His voice raspy from Draco's dick down his throat and his brows furrowed together in obvious worry. Draco would've laughed if it hadn't been so damn endearing.

"Nothing's wrong. I just didn't want to finish like that. I want you. I want you inside me. Now." With that, Harry stood and immediately removed the rest of his clothing, his thick cock standing proudly erect. And holy Salazar, Potter was fucking huge. Draco had no idea how that was going to fit in him, but fucking hell did he want to try. 

"Have you ever...?"

"No, never." 

"Alright. We'll take it slow then. Turn over and lean down, chest against the desk." Potter's voice was gentle as he told Draco exactly what position he wanted him in and why it was easier for his first time. Draco heard him mutter a spell of some kind and then felt Potter's cool fingers, slicked with lube, against his furled hole. Slowly, Potter began to push one finger in, stopping every now and again to tell Draco to relax and that he was doing well.

Soon enough, he had the first finger in up to the last knuckle and was thrusting in and out slowly. He began to pick up the pace when Draco moaned and started to push his hips back on to Harry's finger. After a few minutes, the raven-haired boy withdrew his finger and added another, slowly thrusting in. Draco winced at the slight burn and Harry waited for him to relax again, rubbing the blonde's lower back and placing kisses between his shoulder blades, before thrusting in all the way. He began to scissor his fingers, stretching Malfoy. Again, he pulled out and added a third finger, letting Draco adjust before thrusting in and out, finding his prostate in the process. Draco gasped loudly when Harry found the bundle of nerves and moaned when he hit it again. Harry started to scissor his fingers again, making sure to brush them up against Draco's prostate each time.

By the time Harry deemed Draco ready, the blonde was a writhing, moaning mess against the desk. Carefully, Harry brought the tip of his lubed cock to Draco's, now gaping, hole. He slowly pushed the head past the ring of muscles and stopped, letting Draco get used to the feeling of having his cock inside him. 

"Harry, please," Draco begged. He wiggled his hips a little to let Harry know he was ready. The ravenette grabbed Draco's hips and held him against the desk as the thrust hard and fast into his ass, causing both to scream out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Draco! You feel amazing. So hot and tight and perfect," Harry groaned out as he pounded into Draco. Each thrust bringing them both closer to blissful oblivion. 

"Oh Harry, yes! Fuck! Harder, please." Draco's words were high and breathy as he begged Harry to pound into him harder and faster, moaning loudly when he got his wish, every thrust hitting his prostrate perfectly. "Harry, I'm...nghn...fuck I'm close." 

"Me too, Draco.... ohhhh fuck!" Harry screamed out as he came hard and fast inside Draco, coating his insides white with come. The feeling of being filled by Harry sent Draco over the edge. Letting out a breathy, high pitched scream, Draco spurted come over both the desk and his stomach.

He collapsed against the desk surface while Harry carefully began to pull out. He reached for his wand and cast a cleaning charm over both of them before gathering Draco in his arms and sinking to the floor. They lay like that for a while, though neither could really say how long it truly was. 

"I think we ruined my letter," Draco's voice was almost a whisper in the contented silence.

"Well that's a damn shame. I put a lot of work into that thing." 

"Wait...what? That...that was you?" Draco raises his head slightly from Potter's chest to look at him.

"Well, yeah. I thought that was obvious. Was it not? I mean, considering what just happened and all. The letter was actually what I had initially come to talk to you about." 

"So it wasn't a prank or from Pansy?"

"Well, no. It was from me," Harry's brow twitched in amusement at Draco as his bright green eyes sparkled in silent laughter. "Merlin, and they say I'm dense. Seriously Draco." His voice shaking slightly from holding in a few chuckles.

"Well you didn't exactly sign it. How the hell was I supposed to know?" Draco muttered as he lay his head back down on Harry's chest. Potter began to stroke his hair and his eyelids began to droop. He felt sated and sleepy and thoroughly used in the best way possible.

He was just drifting to sleep when he felt a kiss pressed against his forehead and Harry muttering, "sleep well, love." He smiled and let himself fall into oblivion, held by the one and only person he had ever truly wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this collection of works is also on Wattpad. They are all mine, unless otherwise stated. However, the Wizarding World and all Harry Potter characters belong to author J.K Rowling. Please feel free to comment or contact me through Wattpad or AO3 about this work! XOXO- Co.


	4. Of Professors and Classrooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I may have gotten a bit carried away with this one. It's a bit longer than the previous pieces and is really more of a short story than a one shot. That being said, I hope you guys enjoy it!

The early September air was crisp, with the lingering warmth of summer slowly giving way to the cool breezes of autumn. Draco Malfoy could already tell that this year would be particularly chilly come winter. But for now, he was perfectly content to stand outside, on the stone steps leading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and enjoy the already setting Scottish sun. As he stood there, on the second step, his trunk sitting one step below him, he took in a deep breath and tilted his head back to stare up at the looming castle. He hadn't exactly been all that surprised when he had received a letter from Minerva McGonagall on the third day of the first week of July, asking if he would like to return to Hogwarts as the new Potions Professor. He knew it would come one day, as Horace Slughorn was bound to retire soon, and Draco was the only other Potions Master in Great Britain. However, he certainly hadn't expected the letter to come so soon, not when he had only become a Potions Master this past May. Though, he supposed that he should be glad to have found a job so quickly, especially one that would take him considering his past allegiances. 

While it was true the war had ended just over seven years ago, the Wizarding World was never quick to forget one's mistakes, no matter how hard he tried to make up for them. He had spent the first two years after the war at St. Mungo's helping them brew potions and heal the sick. He had planned on going back to the hospital after and becoming a Potions Master but figured he could do just as much good in helping to shape the minds of the future. Plus, he could always brew healing draughts and tinctures during his free time and send them to Mungo's. 

Draco sighed and picked his trunk up, it wouldn't do to dwell on the past, and he needed to get inside before the barrage of students began arriving for the infamous Begin of Term Feast. He had made a promise to both himself and McGonagall that he would be an outstanding professor, even if that meant bearing the company of his fellow colleagues and his pupils at every feast Hogwarts threw...and he wasn't about the break that promise on his very first day. 

However, it seemed as if fate, as per usual, was not on his side. As he made his way through the Entrance Hall and towards the corridor that would lead to the professors rooms, he saw the very last person he had ever expected to see walking his way. At first, he hadn't really been entirely certain this person was who he thought. After all, when the war ended plenty of people had gone into a Potter induced craze. For months, everywhere Draco would look, there'd be another Potter lookalike, wannabes who dressed like him, wore their hair like him, hell they even wore those utterly ridiculous glasses that were good for literally no one's face shape (save for maybe Potter's...maybe). The Wizarding World had taken obsession to a whole new level, in his personal opinion. So of course, when he had finally seen the Golden Boy after so many years, he hadn't been sure if this was the real deal, or just another pathetic Potter fan. Although, he should've known dear old Minnie would never hire a knockoff. 

Potter was walking along the corridor leading to the professors' lodgings, obviously coming from his rooms, when he suddenly stopped mid stride to stare at the man standing awkwardly at the mouth of the hallway looking rather shocked himself. All these years, and Draco still couldn't believe how absolutely gorgeous...no, not gorgeous, stupid...Potter looked. With his stupidly ruffled, raven coloured hair, his doubly stupid emerald green eyes, and his triply stupid golden skin. It really was quite infuriating. 

"Malfoy." Potter greeted, bringing Draco out of his momentary daze. 

"Potter. Fancy seeing you here. I, uh, I wasn't aware you were at Hogwarts again." Draco cringed at the way his voice turned up at the end, making his words more of a question, rather than a statement.

Potter chuckled quietly, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone wall of the corridor. "Ah, Minnie didn't tell you, did she?" He shook his head in amusement and looked Draco up and down before smirking ever so slightly. "I'm the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Have been for two years now." 

Draco raised his brows at that. He knew Potter had left the Aurors after three years on the force, but he hadn't known the Golden Boy had become a professor at Hogwarts. He had gone right into the Auror Training Program after Hogwarts, and then had suddenly quit, saying he needed something else out of his life. It had been all anyone could talk about for nearly three months, making Draco gag endlessly every time the spectacled buffoon came up in conversation. 

"I guess that makes us colleagues, then," Draco said tentatively. He watched as Potter regarded him before nodding curtly. 

"I'd heard about you becoming a Potions Master. You'll make a good professor, much like your godfather." Potters words were quiet yet firm, as if he was daring Draco to say otherwise. 

"If I recall correctly, you never particularly got along with Severus." Draco quirked one immaculate brow up, carefully ignoring the implication that Potter did indeed know about his relation to the late Potions Master. 

"Just because he was a capable professor doesn't mean I had to like him personally. He was far too liberal with his detentions and took points off any house save his own much too quickly." Potter's eyes held a mischievous glint to them as he stared at Malfoy, willing the tall blonde to get riled up.

Draco rolled his eyes, determined to not take the bait, tempting as it was. "Yes, well, he may not have been everyone's favourite", he drawled, deliberately not hearing Potter's snort of derision, "but he was rather iconic to us Slytherins." With that, Draco hefted his trunk once more, and strolled down the corridor, passing by Potter with little more than a polite nod, mentally berating himself for letting the man get to him yet again. As he headed towards his chambers, he knew he would have to do better if he wanted to live up to Minerva's expectations. He wanted to do well for her; he wanted to prove himself, both to her and the rest of the Wizarding World. He was more than his family name, more than his past. It had taken a long time for him to get to the point where he could say that and mean it, and he wasn't about to let Potter make him forget it. 

_____________________________________________________

Harry was finding himself rather surprised by Malfoy. It wasn't that he had been expecting the pointy git to still be evil (if he had ever truly been evil to begin with), but he hadn't expected the warm civility the man radiated either. When Minnie had told him she was hiring none other than Draco Malfoy to be their new Potions Professor, Harry hadn't exactly been thrilled. He'd known Malfoy was the natural choice to take over Horace's position, but he just hadn't been prepared for that day to come so soon. His face must have shown his thoughts, because as soon as Minerva was finished breaking the news to him, she went right into, what was probably a well-rehearsed, speech about professionalism in the work place and the merits that come along with letting go of old rivalries. 

"Give him a chance, Harry." She'd told him, her face as stern as ever. "He just might surprise you." Of course she'd been right, he groused to himself, as he pretended not to stare at the blonde over the pages of the Daily Prophet. It had been exactly one week since the start of term, and Dra-no, Malfoy had been nothing but cordial. It was certainly a far cry from the cool indifference Harry had been expecting. He gave his colleagues polite nods and courteous smiles and managed the children with warm efficiency. If Harry was being honest, Malfoy rather reminded him of Minerva. 

He flicked his eyes back to the Prophet and attempted to read an article about werewolves in the ministry. It was supposed to be a scathing exposé about the supposed corruption in the Magical Creatures Department but seeing as it was written by none other than Rita Skeeter, Harry knew to take the article with a grain of salt (or a block of salt, really). However, he just couldn't seem to focus on the words. His mind was still going over every encounter he'd had with Malfoy over the past week. He hadn't had a direct conversation with the man since the very first day, but they'd seen each other in the halls and at meals. Each time, Malfoy had given him a subtle nod and a small smile, nothing too warm or friendly by most people's standards, but for Malfoy it was downright sunny. Harry scowled at the thought of a chipper Malfoy, with the blonde hair and wiry form, it reminded him of Luna. Well that was just great, now he had an image of a Luna-esque Malfoy, wearing her cat spectacles and bright pink and purple jumper while talking about wrackspurts and crumple-horned snorkacks in that low, drawling voice of his. 

Harry scowled even more and shook his head to rid himself of that particularly disturbing thought. His eyes flicked back up to Malfoy, sat just across from him at the professor's table, eating his typical breakfast of oatmeal with a light sprinkling of cinnamon and meticulously cut up apple slices. Really, he had to stop noticing these things. His scowl deepened some more, it was like sixth year all over again and Hermione would _definitely_ have more than a few choice words for him concerning the breaking of old and "destructive" habits. Come to think of it, Ron would have a few comments himself on the matter. Harry clenched his jaw and looked back down at his morning paper. He had to snap out of this. So what if Malfoy wasn't the same slimy git as when he was a kid, Harry had grown up too, although he was beginning to question if that was actually accurate. 

He glanced down at his half-eaten toast and, now cold, coffee, his appetite having left him quite some time ago. He sighed to himself and began to fold his newspaper. He needed to get out of there, away from Malfoy and these ridiculous thoughts. And while he knew he couldn't escape the latter he could most definitely escape the former. So he pushed back his seat and stood, tucking the Prophet under his arm and shooting a smile towards Minnie, before heading to his office. He had papers to grade anyways, although the thought of reading that many essays on the properties and correct techniques of shielding charms made him cringe, but they would be a welcome distraction from a certain blonde colleague. 

_____________________________________________________

Draco was unbelievably bored. He had already finished grading the papers he had assigned to his sixth years and was halfway through grading the healing draughts he'd had his third years brew. It was mid-October by now, and he had been right about it being a particularly chilly winter. He sighed and put down his quill, looking at the door of his office. He drummed his fingers on his desk and sat back in his chair. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and the last thing he wanted was to spend it in his stuffy office, grading potions. He looked back down at the potion before him, scowling at it. He really should get these done though he'd been putting them off long enough. But then again, what would one more day hurt? He nodded to himself, a smile ghosting along his lips as he stood and strode out of his office. He didn't know where he was going, but he figured outside was as good a place as any to stretch his legs. He made short work of the steps leading out of the dungeon and made his way out of the main doors to the castle. Without thinking, he veered off the main road and made his way down to the lake. 

He had just reached the shoreline when he saw someone a little way down the path, skipping rocks into the, otherwise calm, water. He watched as the figure, definitely male, flung stone after stone across the lake, each one bouncing a few times along the surface before sinking below it with a rather loud _kerplunk_. filled with curiosity, Draco edged towards the figure, getting barely close enough to recognise the inky black hair and tanned skin. Because of course it was Potter. He looked at the man before him, who still hadn't noticed him standing there, and had the brief urge to escape back into the safe confines of his office, or at least escape to another part of the castle grounds. But something held him back. It was as if something was pulling him towards Potter, compelling him to reach out, to say something, anything really. 

So, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he began to slowly walk towards his ex-rival. It wasn't until he was about ten feet away that Potter finally took notice of him, seemingly startled by the knowledge that he wasn't alone anymore. His head whipped around, right as he let loose another stone. Only this one didn't skip, it hit the water with an impressive splash and sank to the bottom of the lake, while Potter stared. And stared and stared.

Draco was beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable as he shifted from foot to foot under the weight of Potter's gaze. "Um, hi?" His voice sounded shaky, even to him, and he cringed. He looked down at the rocky shore, shoving a hand through his hair before looking back up at the man in front of him. 

Potter was still staring, one black eyebrow arched in either confusion or suspicion, Draco really couldn't tell which though. He was standing stock still, his muscular frame silhouetted against the gently lapping waters of the Black Lake. He looked so shocked Draco had spoken to him that the blonde was beginning to get nervous. He looked back down at his feet, and then shot a fleeting glance over towards the Forbidden Forest, distinctly wishing a rouge hippogriff would come charging out of the trees and attack him. Maybe an angry werewolf would be better? Hell, he'd even take a blast-ended skrewt at this point. Anything to break the deafeningly awkward silence stretching between him and Potter. 

Draco grimaced and nodded to himself, as he felt the heated flush of embarrassment creep its way up his neck. "Right, well, I'll just...uhm...you know," he pointed back towards the castle with one thumb before quickly turning on his heel and striding back up to the school. How could he be so stupid? He'd let the general civility between him and Potter this past month and a half cloud his judgement. He should never have said anything. Or better yet, the moment he knew just who it was down by the lake, he should have turned tail and ran in the opposite direction. Because all he had done with that pathetic little display down there, was make a complete and utter fool of himself. Of course Potter didn't want to talk to him. Of course he was suspicious. Draco had been an absolute twat to the man when they were growing up, and he knew it. Why he thought Potter would ever want to speak with him after everything he did, he didn't know. Merlin, he was such a fucking idiot!

He clenched his fists at his sides as he nearly stomped his way back across the chilly Hogwarts grounds. He had just reached the outskirts of the courtyard outside the Entry Hall to the castle when a hand wrapped itself around his wrist and he was yanked around, coming face to face with the very source of his inner turmoil. 

"Would you just wait for a second?" Potter was breathing heavily, his chest rapidly rising up and down. "Holy shit, you're a fast walker." 

Draco looked at the man before him and then glanced down at the tanned hand still clutching his much paler wrist. He looked back up at Potter and raised one golden brow "May I help you, Potter?" His voice lacked his usual bite, but the sentiment was still there. He had already made a fool of himself once today, he wasn't about to do so again. 

"Didn't you hear me shouting for you to wait up?" Potter looked into Draco's eyes, his viridescent gaze full of worry and a small amount of amusement. He let out tiny chuckle at Draco's obvious expression of surprise and confusion. "Look," he started, letting go of Draco's wrist and shoving his hand through his unruly ebony curls. "I didn't mean to freeze up back there, I was just...well, I was startled is all. And I didn't know what to say or even how to start. I mean, it's us. We've never exactly been the best of friends." Draco let out a delicate snort at this, causing Potter to smirk. "I guess I was just figuring out what to say, and then you just took off." 

"A simple 'hello' wouldn't have been sufficient?" 

"Well, yeah, I guess that would have worked. It just seemed too…small? I don't know. I just...I don't know." Potter tilted his head to the side, a small line forming between his dark brows. Draco couldn't help but think that he looked, rather infuriatingly, like a confused puppy.

"Eloquent, as ever, Potter." Draco drawled, quirking the corners of his lips up, ever so slightly. Just enough to let Potter know that he was joking with him. Potter's eyes snapped up to meet his, crinkling at the corners as he graced Draco with a blinding smile. "Alright, look, maybe we could talk. As in properly. I have a kettle in my office, perhaps you'd fancy a cuppa?" 

"Yeah! I'd love that." Potter's face visibly brightened as his head bobbed up and down in an enthusiastic nod, causing Draco to smile just a little more. He turned back towards the looming castle, determined to not look back at Potter's overly jubilant expression. He set a brisk pace as he walked back up to the looming doors of Hogwarts, only pausing once he made it up the massive steps to let his companion catch up to him. 

"Do you always walk so fast?" Potter huffed, shooting him an amused look from where he was walking, his shoulder lightly brushing against Draco's. 

"I believe in efficiency, Potter." Draco murmured, shortening his stride nonetheless and earning himself a crooked grin in return. He decided not to dwell on the somewhat floppy, fluttery manoeuvre his stomach did as a result of that slightly mischievous smile. He told himself it was nothing really, that it was his stomach's peculiar way of reminding him he'd skipped lunch earlier today and that was it. It had to be nothing, because what else could it be?

Draco frowned a bit as they continued to wend their way through the maze of hallways that eventually led to the potions classroom, and subsequently Draco's office. The corridors were quiet in the Sunday calm and seemed to be nearly deserted, save for the odd prefect on patrol, leaving him to his own thoughts and Potter's distant words. If he was being honest with himself, Draco was focusing more on that particularly disturbing floppy flutter, and what it definitely did not mean, than on Potter's deep, rumbling ramble. 

"Hello? Earth to Malfoy. Are you in there?" Draco blinked back into reality to find they had stopped in front of his office door, and Harry was waving a hand inches away from his face. 

"Hm? Oh, right, sorry. I got caught up in my own thoughts I guess." He shook his head slightly and took out his wand, shooting a quick _alohomora_ at his door before opening it. He let Potter step inside before he followed, shutting the door with a soft _snick_. 

_____________________________________________________

It had been three weeks since Harry and Draco had first had tea together and it had quickly become a daily ritual. Each day, just as Harry was finishing up his last class, Draco (and yes, he had taken to calling him Draco by now) would saunter into his classroom, past the whispering students, and waltz right into Harry's office to make them both cups of tea. The first time it had happened was the day after the lake incident, as Harry now called it. He had been so stunned when Draco had breezed through his classroom and up into his office, he'd stopped lecturing his fourth years on the uses and properties of the Homenum Revelio spell and merely stared at his, now shut, office door for a few seconds. 

"Um Professor Potter...What's Professor Malfoy doing in your office?" Angie, one of the fourth year Hufflepuffs asked him, her dainty hand raised and half pointing in the direction of Harry's office.

"Haven't the faintest, Ms. Marks." Harry managed to squeak out, before shaking his head and continuing on with his lecture. It was almost ten minutes before the end of class and by the time he let his students go for the day, all Harry could think of was Draco and his office. Apparently, many of his students were in the same boat, as they shot a good deal of poorly concealed curious glances at the wooden door as they left. 

When his classroom door finally clicked shut after the last student, Harry took in a large breath and went to open his office door. The sight that greeted him stopped him at the threshold. He blinked a few times and then strode to his desk, on which Malfoy was sitting with his legs crossed and two mugs of steaming tea placed on the hard wooden surface next to him. "Is it too much to ask for you to use a chair, Malfoy?" He sighed, trying his damnedest to hide his amusement at the blonde's antics. Although, judging by Draco's smirk, he wasn't entirely successful.

"Of course it's too much, Potter. I shall sit where I like," Malfoy declared as he handed Harry his mug. "Now, sit down and drink your tea. I must tell you about what happened in my sixth year Ravenclaw and Slytherin class today." Harry obeyed with the barest hint of a smile, thus beginning their newfound tradition of tea whilst they talked about their days. They'd talk about their classes, students and lesson plans. And when they were done with that, they would move on to their personal lives. Harry had to admit he was surprised. He'd never imagined that he could have such a good friendship with Draco Malfoy of all people. Of course, he didn't fail to notice the triumphant glances Minerva would send them as they chatted and laughed over meals and in the professor's lounge. And he had to admit, she right. He was finding he had much more in common with Draco than he had initially thought. From their mutual love of quidditch to their shared dry humour, Harry and Draco always had something to talk about. There was never a dull moment around Draco and Harry found himself seeking the blonde out more and more, eager for his easy and comfortable company. 

Which, of course, was what had led Harry to his current predicament. He was sat in the living room of the Burrow for the weekly Sunday Supper with the Weasleys, his elbows resting on his knees, as he spoke softly with Ron and Hermione.

“You mean to tell me you’ve actually developed feelings for the pointy git?” Ron whispered incredulously his eyes wide as he leaned closer to his best friend. 

“Well it’s hardly surprising, Ronald,” Hermione quietly interjected. “It’s not like we didn’t see this coming.”

“Well, yeah ‘Mione, but we didn’t think he’d actually figure it out for himself.”

Harry was staring at his two friends in slight indignant shock. “Hey now! I am perfectly capable of figuring out my feelings for myself,” Harry declared, studiously ignoring the matching arched eyebrows from the newlyweds. “Besides, it’s not like it was that obvious…right?” 

“Oh Harry, all you could talk about was Draco when we were at pub night last week.”

“Yeah mate, I had to hear all about how great Ferret-Face is…for a whole night.” Ron’s face had now taken on a look of mock horror, although Harry suspected it wasn’t entirely false. There was still a lot to work through between him and Malfoy. “Besides, even if you hadn’t talked about him all night, you practically have tea dates with the git every day.”

Harry groaned softly and let his head fall into his hands. “Do you guys think everyone else knows? Do you think he knows?” He didn’t really need their answers though, the hesitant silence from both of them were confirmation enough. 

“Well, I couldn’t say if Draco knows, but people have definitely started to notice, Harry,” Hermione said quietly, while placing her hand on his knee. “However,” she spoke again, a little louder to be heard over his groan of embarrassment, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he reciprocated. From the letters McGonagall and I have exchanged, it seems as if he’s fairly taken with you as well.”

Harry’s head snapped up and he turned to stare in shock and rising horror at her. “Minnie knows!? She’s going to think I’m so unprofessional! And after she gave me that whole speech about being professional in the workplace. I know that was about letting old rivalries die, but the principles are the same and I’ve completely cocked it up” He bemoaned. 

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that, Harry. She seems rather amused with the whole situation.”

“Yeah mate, so long as you aren’t shagging him in any classrooms, I’d reckon she won’t mind.”

“RONALD,” Hermione shrieked, hitting her husband in the arm and receiving a rather indignant ‘ow’ in return, much to Harry’s amusement. He let them bicker on while he pondered his situation. If Draco truly did reciprocate his feelings, what would be next? He would assume they’d date, but it’d been so long since he’d had a proper relationship, he wasn’t entirely sure he would know how to go about it. Of course, there was always the possibility Draco only saw Harry as a friend, and then what? Would they be able to stay friends if Harry told Malfoy how he felt and he was turned down? He would hope so, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk it. As Molly called out that dinner was a ready and Ron and ‘Mione stopped bickering, Harry came to the decision he would need more time to think about Draco and the possibilities surrounding their relationship. He’d fucked too many things up by just rushing in with his Gryffindor courage and stupidity (as Draco would call it). No, he needed time to weigh out all the options and possible consequences. He was not going to fuck up what he had with Draco because he was too busy following his dick instead of his brain. Besides, as much as he wanted a relationship with Draco, there was no way he was going to force the man into something if he didn’t want it. Draco deserved to be happy, and Harry wasn’t sure he could be the one to make him happy. 

_____________________________________________________

Draco had decided he was done waiting for Harry to tell him what was wrong. It was almost mid-December by now, and Harry seemed to be growing more and more distant. They’d still have their daily chats over tea and sometimes they’d even accompany one another into Hogsmeade for their Christmas shopping. However, despite their near constant company, Draco could feel Harry was distracted or troubled about something. At first, he’d thought he’d something wrong, or had offended Harry in some way. But he hoped Potter would be mature enough to tell him if he was angry with him for any reason. Regardless, he was tired of waiting for Potter to get his shit together and tell him just what in the ever-living fuck was going on in that impossibly thick skull of his. It was high time he confronted the infuriating man to figure out what had changed between them. So, it was with no small amount of trepidation that Draco wrapped up his last class of the day and made his way to Potter’s office for their daily tea. 

Harry’s fifth year students were just coming out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom and some offered him a few hellos, which he returned with a distracted smile and a nod in their direction, as he entered Harry’s domain. Potter, it seemed, had already retreated into his office, so Draco let out a little sigh and steeled himself for the upcoming conversation. 

“Harry, I believe it is past time we talked about what’s wrong,” he began, as he pushed open the office door and stepped into the slightly cramped space. The sight that met him was more than slightly disconcerting. Two mugs were set out on the desk as usual, with Harry sat behind the large mahogany piece. However, what concerned Draco was the way in which he was sitting, with his forehead resting upon the surface as he heaved out a rather large and loud sigh. Draco softly shut the door and leaned against it, staring at the man before him. “See, now this is precisely what I am talking about. Clearly there is something wrong and I might be able to help of you would just tell me for Merlin’s fucking sake!”

Slowly, Harry lifted his head and let his gaze meet Draco’s. The blonde could tell he was trying to work out some sort of inner turmoil and decision, so he waited for Potter to speak. After a couple of minutes, although Draco could have sworn it was an eternity, Harry reached for his own mug and then indicated for Draco to take a seat. As Draco took his tea and sat, he tried to calm the riling fear and anxiety swarming within him. He’d come to care for Harry a great deal since the beginning of term, well before that if he was to be honest with himself, and he didn’t want to lose Harry’s friendship. However with how Harry had been acting recently, Draco was petrified Harry was already lost to him. 

“I had hoped I could get by without telling you,” the man across the desk finally said, his voice low with emotion. “But damn it, Draco, you make it too fucking hard to not say anything. I mean, look at you! It’s just not fair and I simply can’t keep doing this.”

Draco felt a cold spike of anxiety lance through his stomach. “Can’t keep doing what, exactly?”

“This,” Harry gesticulated wildly. “This having tea and being friends! I can’t keep it up anymore.” Draco’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, but Harry wasn’t done talking yet. “I can’t keep the pretence of wanting _just_ a friendship with you, Malfoy. It’s too hard. You’re killing me Draco, and you don’t even know it.” He finally looked into Draco’s eyes, his viridian gaze bright with what looked like unshed tears. 

Draco found he was having a hard time breathing, but he let himself focus on one word in Harry’s outburst. _Just._ Harry didn’t want _just_ a friendship. Did that mean he might want more? Draco’s heart and stomach did a sort of floppy jig at that particular prospect, but he figured he had better be absolutely sure before he got excited. “What do you mean you can’t keep the pretence of wanting _just_ a friendship with me? You want more than a friendship?”

Harry broke their eye contact with a self-deprecating huff. “How can I not want something more, Draco? You are amazing and witty and gorgeous. But I know you don’t want anything more from me, which is why I can’t keep doing this.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? I just told you! It would be too fucking painful to have tea with you every-day knowing you don’t feel the same, knowing you don’t love me back!” Harry’s eyes widened as he seemed to realise what he’d said. He seemed to be scrambling for something to say, while Draco merely tried to catch his breath and wrap his mind around what he’d just heard, not to mention his attempts to ignore the happy fluttering coming from his stomach and heart. 

“You love me?” Draco asked breathlessly, as he tried not to smile too much, receiving only a painfully hesitant nod in return. “I see. And just when did you come to this shocking conclusion of self-discovery?”

“About a month ago? Maybe a little more? I’m not entirely sure.” By now Harry was looking anywhere but Draco, clearly wanting this conversation to end so he could wallow alone.

“Ah. In that case, I feel we must circle back to my previous question…why? Why on earth would you think I wouldn’t harbour the same feelings as you, you absolute dolt?” At this, Harry’s gaze snapped straight to Draco’s, seeing the amusement and fondness Draco was sure the grey depths held. 

“You do?” Harry asked him warily, eyes slightly narrowed as if he were trying to judge Draco’s sincerity.

“Of course, you pillock,” Draco said fondly, as he rolled his eyes. “I mean, it’s not as you’re not absolutely gorgeous yourself. Not to mention almost sickeningly kind and deceptively clever, well, most of the time. Honestly, Potter, how could you ever doubt tha-oomph,” Draco’s sentence was cut off as Harry launched himself across the desk, spilling both their tea in the process, and pressing their lips together in a heated, yet reverent, kiss. 

“You’re right,” he said breathlessly, as he pulled away from Draco. 

“Mmm I usually am, but what about this time, love?” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile at the endearment that seemed to slip so effortlessly from Draco’s kiss swollen lips. “I am a pillock. And a dolt. Not to mention a moron, idiot, or any other words that mean oblivious. I really thought you would want nothing to do with me after I told you. I didn’t dare let myself hope you’d feel as I do.” Harry smiled gently at Draco and touched their foreheads together, sighing contently. 

“Well, I won’t argue with you there,” Draco let his amusement colour his voice. “You can be rather oblivious at times. As such, I need you to promise me something,” he opened his eyes and looked imploringly into Harry’s. “Because I have been tearing my hair out these past few weeks trying to figure out what was wrong with you. The next time you are unsure about something, come to me. We can talk things out and you don’t have to sit and stew and I don’t have to try to guess what’s happening in that head of yours.”

Harry smiled and nodded ever so slightly. “I promise to come to you whenever I am having doubts. About anything. I want to share everything with you, and I am sorry I caused you worry these past weeks.” Draco smiled back up at him as Harry leaned in once more and sealed the promise with another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, this collection of works is also on Wattpad. They are all mine, unless otherwise stated. However, the Wizarding World and all Harry Potter characters belong to author J.K Rowling. Please feel free to comment or contact me through Wattpad or AO3 about this work! XOXO- Co.


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